


I Can't Fight It When I Dream

by WoundedSoul



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Battle of New York, Clint Blames Himself, Dead Phil Coulson, Dreams and Nightmares, Gen, Post-Battle of New York (Marvel), Unrequited Love, i am terrible at tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 20:21:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10557132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WoundedSoul/pseuds/WoundedSoul
Summary: I watch. Every day I watch Clint suffer. Despite my feelings, I wish Phil was still alive. Maybe then Barton wouldn't blame himself. Maybe then he would smile again.Maybe then my dreams wouldn't plague me so.





	

I sat up with a start, body shaking as I inhaled a ragged breath and tried to steady my pounding heart. My shirt was sticky, probably from the sweat pouring off my skin. I peeled it off before tossing it across the room, the cool night air sending goosebumps up my arms and back. 

“I can't keep doing this,” I muttered as I ran a nervous hand through my sleep tousled hair. It had been the same way for weeks now, nights without peace and dreams without ending. Always the same. Always about... _ him.  _

I closed my eyes and leaned back against my headboard, allowing myself to remember for just a moment. Capturing what fleeting feelings my waking mind could hold onto. 

_ Nails scraping down my spine. Whines of pleasure. Lips against my collarbone. A solid form pressed against me that was somehow steel and softness wrapped into one.  _

I wanted to feel that, wanted to know what it was like to have Clint crave me with the same fire. But that had never been in the cards, especially not after what happened during the Battle of New York. 

I had been friends with Phil, hell everyone liked him. Agent Coulson was the finest SHIELD had to offer, and he proved it the day he stood up to Loki and gave his life for us all. That memory was stronger than anything I could offer Clint, so I didn't even waste my breath trying. 

Hawkeye, Agent Barton, so many names for the man who obscured my every thought, but Phil had always called him his little bird. Coulson was a true gentleman; holding the door open, taking him out to dinner, mundane things that are what really makes love work. I had never told either of them about my own feelings, preferring to let the two be happy while burying my hurt deep. That had always been my specialty. 

But now, Phil was gone. I remember when Director Fury threw those blood soaked Captain America cards on the table, how that somehow made our petty differences no longer matter. And if that didn't unite us, then watching Clint fall apart at the news did. 

Even now, after six months and an alien war, Barton blamed himself. No matter how many times we told him it had been Loki’s doing, he couldn't let it go. He had led the attack on the helicarrier. If not for fortune and a blow to the head, he would have followed that mad god to the ends of the earth and beyond. So many deaths hung on the hawk's shoulders now, but Phil’s was the one that cut him the deepest. 

And as for me, it was my destiny to sit back and watch. I had tried more than once to say something, anything, to help ease the pain, but it never worked. And as for my feelings? They got stuffed so far down inside my heart that they would never see the light of day again. 

But nights? Oh the nights! I couldn't fight it when I dreamed. I couldn't hide from myself with the moon overhead and the lights of New York shining through my window. That's when my emotions uncorked themselves and crawled up out of the abyss to plague me with wants that I could never have. And the icing on the screwed up cake that is my life? I felt like a real sick bastard about it all. Why couldn't it have been someone else, anyone else, but Clint? 

“Because that's just your luck,” I answered myself as I slid out of bed. I headed for the door, hoping someone already had a pot of coffee on as this was going to be another long night. 

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this not knowing which of the Avengers holds the secret flame for Clint. Even after writing it I still don't know. I guess we will leave that up to you, the reader. 
> 
> Not really sure what struck me with this one. I have been toying with this idea for a while and suddenly it needed to come out. I hope the little bit of angst makes you as happy (or not) as it made me.


End file.
